


Once a King in Narnia, always a King in Narnia

by Zara_Zee



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - The French Mistake (Supernatural) Fusion, Fae & Fairies, M/M, spn_reversebang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 12:41:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21494464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zara_Zee/pseuds/Zara_Zee
Summary: It’s not every day an enchanted wardrobe containing a portal to another Realm turns up on set. It is, unfortunately, an everyday occurrence for Jensen’s co-star to curiously poke at potentially dangerous things. When Jared decides to channel his inner Sam Winchester and go looking for Narnia, despite Jensen’s warnings, Jensen figures he’d better channel his inner Dean Winchester and go in after him.What they find, changes everything.
Relationships: Jensen Ackles/Jared Padalecki
Comments: 30
Kudos: 105
Collections: 2019 Supernatural Reversebang Challenge





	Once a King in Narnia, always a King in Narnia

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** ‘Jared’, ‘Jensen’, 'Misha' and ‘Genevieve’ are based on the characters portrayed in the episode _The French Mistake_, albeit with some of my own twists. These are fictional characters, folks. I don’t own them and this is written for fun, not profit.
> 
> Title is a quote from the CS Lewis classic _The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe_. I only learned recently that CS Lewis was inspired to write the book based on a picture of a faun carrying an umbrella and parcels, in the snow. Which I guess makes the book a Reversebang?

Jensen doesn’t really talk to his co-star, Jared. He doesn’t talk to anyone much. People say he’s an arrogant stuck up prima donna…but never to his face. Because whatever else he may be, Jensen is mesmerizingly beautiful. People get tongue-tied in his presence. They stutter and they flail. They stare open-mouthed and red-cheeked. Very occasionally they drool and grope. What they _don’t_ do is treat him like he’s a real person with feelings, who would maybe like to kick back and share a beer without being put on a pedestal like some kind of god.

Quite honestly, it’s just easier and less painful to remain aloof, even when it leads to people calling him stuck up. 

Being beautiful led Jensen to modelling. Modelling led him to acting. And yes, it may seem counter-intuitive to be in such a public profession when he’s such a reserved person and generally so bad at relating to people, but Jensen is a genuinely good actor. And being Dean Winchester allows him to feel all of the many human emotions and connections that seem to be denied to him once the cameras stop rolling.

The child psychologist his parents used to make him see told them that Jensen had an attachment disorder. Probably something to do with his having been abandoned as a baby. Jensen knows his parents adopted him when he was a year old, but of course, he doesn’t remember his life before that time. He’s happy enough, he thinks. But he does sometimes feel that something’s missing from his life. Something important.

Sophie from Make-up finishes wiping the last of the foundation from his face and Jensen smiles at her and thanks her, which makes her blush and stammer.

Jensen sighs and gets up from the chair.

He’s wandering through the studio toward his trailer when he hears Jared say ‘_Omigod_!’ in such an awed tone that Jensen abruptly detours onto the set, which is ready and waiting for tomorrow’s shoot, to see what’s going on.

As soon as he enters the set, he rocks to a stop, his mouth falling open in wonder.

“How are they doing that?” Jensen says, looking around for a projector. 

“It looks so real!” Jared whispers, side-eyeing Jensen.

Jared is one of the very few people, outside of Jensen’s parents, who don’t get flustered when they speak with Jensen. That isn’t to say Jared _likes_ Jensen—he’s never actually tried to be friends with him or anything; never invited him for a beer or to watch the game. Then again, Jensen’s never asked _him_ to socialize before either. He’s not sure why. It just…doesn’t seem like something Jensen can do. Also, Jared has this really intense way of looking at him that Jensen doesn’t understand.

And then there’s the whole Tom Welling thing too. Before Supernatural, Jared and Jensen had never worked together, but they’d both worked with Tom Welling. Tom Welling definitely _doesn’t_ like Jensen. Jensen suspects that Tom is jealous of him; after all, he’s much prettier than Tom. And a better actor too. Not long after _Supernatural_ started, Jensen overheard a couple of the crew saying that Jared was worried about working with him because of all the stuff Tom Welling was saying about him.

Jared clears his throat. He’s giving Jensen one of those intense looks again.

Jensen rubs the back of his neck and lowers his eyelashes.

“I think,” Jared says, gesturing at the wardrobe. “I think…it _is_ real.”

Jensen looks up at the…fuck it…the _wooded glade_…glittering at him from the inside of the wardrobe. There’s a deep pit of unease opening up in his stomach and he doesn’t know what to think. What to say.

WWDD? Jensen wonders. When all else fails, channelling his inner Dean Winchester is often a good fall-back position. 

“That is some CS Lewis levels of messed up,” Jensen says, in a perfect Dean drawl.

Jared laughs. “It sure is,” his eyes slide across to Jensen again. “Wanna explore?”

“Hell no,” is Jensen’s immediate and explosive response.

Jared’s eyebrows lift.

“Why not? Are you scared?”

Yes. He definitely is. Deeply afraid. And he’s not sure why.

“No,” he scoffs. “It’s probably a prank. The crew are probably standing by waiting to laugh at us.”

“I don’t think so,” Jared says softly.

He moves closer to the wardrobe and Jensen has to stifle the urge to pull him away from it.

Jared turns back to look at him, his face alight with excitement and curiosity.

“I’m going in,” he says.

“Don’t,” Jensen shakes his head. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

Jared laughs and climbs up into the wardrobe.

“Oh wow,” he says. “It’s real. It really is,” he laughs and spins around, arms spread wide like Maria in _The Sound of Music_. “I’m standing on grass. I can feel the warmth of the sun. I can smell...summer,” he begins to walk, his silhouette becoming smaller than would be possible if this was just a clever projection.

“Jared, stop!” Jensen says.

Even he can hear the panic in his voice.

Jared, the fucker, just laughs. “C’mon pussy,” he says. “What would Sam and Dean do? You really think they’d let a portal to another realm show up in the bunker and not investigate?”

“We are not Sam and Dean!” Jensen shouts at Jared’s rapidly retreating back.

He dithers for a moment, but Jared’s right—the Winchester brothers would definitely investigate this. And there’s no way Dean would let Sammy go through this portal without him. If Jared is hell-bent on discovering Narnia, then Jensen is just going to have to channel his inner-Dean Winchester and go in after him.

“Fuck,” Jensen says, with feeling.

And then he clambers up into the wardrobe.

Jensen is hit by too much, all at once. The warmth of the sun on his skin; the scent of jasmine, recent rain, and freshly cut grass; and the way the very air all around him seems to sparkle. And the trees. The trees seem like they’re looking at him, not just alive, but _conscious_ and…there’s something, oh gods, something powerful…he can feel it surrounding him, enveloping him, tugging at him.

Jensen puts his hands to his head, dizzy and overwhelmed. He can feel himself slipping, deep down into the dark. And then there are hands on him. Jensen opens his eyes (huh…when did he close them?) and looks up into slanted, multi-colored eyes.

“You okay, man?” says Jared.

Jensen sits up (huh…when did he lie down?) and nods.

Jared is squatting beside him looking worried.

“Must’ve tripped,” Jensen says.

He rotates his shoulders. He must’ve landed awkwardly on them, because they ache something fierce.

Jared’s face is disconcertingly close to his. He’s really a very pretty man and Jensen gets lost just staring at his face. His hair in particular is gorgeous —so soft and silky—and his nose is just cute as a button. But his eyes. Wow. So many swirling colors. Jensen finds himself captivated, trying to catalog them all.

“Wow,” Jared says softly.

Jensen focuses.

“Your eyes,” Jared says. “Have they always been that green? I know those fan writers always like to go on about you having eyes like emerald orbs, but fuck me if they don’t actually look like emerald orbs right now.”

Jensen blinks. Jared still has one hand on Jensen’s upper arm and one on his thigh. It feels…nice. Right.

Jared seems to notice where his hands are too, because he pulls back quickly and stands up, before offering Jensen a hand up.

“C’mon,” he says.

Jensen takes his hand, mostly because he already misses Jared’s touch.

Which is weird.

“So,” Jared says, “You up for a little exploring?”

He’s still holding Jensen’s hand.

“I, uh, I think we should go back,” Jensen says.

Jared looks at him beseechingly, eyes like a pleading puppy. Damn it. Jensen hates when he does that.

“C’mon,” Jared says softly. “This is some amazing, mind-blowing shit right here. We’ve gotta look around. When are we ever gonna get a chance like this again? Please? Just fifteen minutes?”

Jensen finds himself agreeing.

Jared beams and turns, pulling Jensen along beside him.

“Jay?” Jensen says. “Are you gonna let go of my hand?”

Jared drops it like a hot potato. “Sorry. I didn’t realize…”

“It’s okay,” Jensen tells him.

He rotates his shoulders again. He could definitely do with some Tylenol.

Also. Jensen tilts his head. Who is that whispering? It’s coming from all around. It almost sounds like people are whispering his name from either side, but there’s no one around except for him and Jared. It must just be the wind whispering through the trees. Not that there is any wind. Maybe he hit his head when he fell?

“So,” Jared says, as they make their way down the avenue of twisted, possibly talking, trees, “where do you think we are?”

“Tír na nÓg,” Jensen says, the words slipping from his tongue almost without thought.

Jared side-eyes him and yeah, okay, that was weird. Jensen frowns. Where did that name come from?

“I mean,” he stammers. “It can’t be Narnia, right? That’s fictional. But there are…myths…about Other Realms, yeah? Like Tír na nÓg?”

Jared’s eyes are wide, his lips slightly parted. “Wow,” he says. “Guess you did your homework and memorized that mythology book Kripke gave us in Season 1.”

Jensen’s pretty sure he didn’t even open it, but he nods anyway, because how else can he explain the sure way he’d answered Jared’s question?

“Where to now, Mr Expert?” Jared asks.

Jensen shrugs and a sharp pain spears him between the shoulder blades. Ow. Okay. Not doing that again. He must’ve landed really hard when he fell.

“I dunno,” he answers Jared’s question. “You’re the one who wanted to explore.”

There’s light at the end of the tunnel of trees and soon Jared and Jensen are stepping out into a wide open meadow. The grass is a soft green and it’s dotted with wildflowers in an array of bright colors. The sky is a cloudless deep blue and the sun shines gently, its rays dispersing a muted mellow warmth over everything. Butterflies and bumblebees flit between the flowers and here and there a dragonfly hovers.

Jensen feels his heart swelling with emotions he can’t quite explain. He doesn’t think he’s ever been in such a beautiful place. He closes his eyes and listens. He can still hear the whispering trees, but now he can also hear a distant tinkling like the chiming of tiny bells and closer, the murmur of water over rocks.

“Wow,” Jared breathes. He cocks his head. “Is that…a creek?”

Jensen nods. “I can hear it too. C’mon. I think it’s this way.”

They walk until they find a babbling brook. It’s not wide and it’s not deep, but the water splashes over golden sunlit rocks, causing a fine mist that makes the air sparkle and rainbows dance.

“Wow,” Jared says again.

Movement from off to the side catches Jensen’s eye and he tenses. A moment later floppy white ears and a twitching pink-whiskered nose emerge from the grass and Jensen drops to his knees.

“Hey, buddy,” he coos.

He gathers up an armful of doe-eyed bunny and runs his fingers through its silky fur.

“Aww,” Jared says, plopping himself down beside Jensen. “That has got to be the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen. Who knew that Jensen Ackles, Grump Extraordinaire, could be tamed by a cuddly fluffy bunny?”

Jensen doesn’t deign to respond, simply snuggles with the bunny until it wriggles in his arms, indicating that it wants to go. He releases his hold and watches it hop away. He glances at Jared who practically has hearts in his eyes.

“I’m not the asshole everyone seems to think I am, you know.”

“Yeah,” Jared drags out the word and looks at Jensen thoughtfully. “You know, I’m usually really good with people; make friends easily. But with you…it’s like you had this massive personal space bubble and I couldn’t even get near,” he frowns. “I’m not feeling that any more. You seem…more approachable,” he looks around and smiles softly. “I guess this really is a magical place if it’s got you opening up.”

Jensen meets Jared’s eyes. “It’s not my fault,” he says. “The personal bubble thing.”

He explains to Jared that he was adopted at twelve months old and tells him what the child psychologist said about him. “I guess the theory is that if you don’t let people get too close they can’t hurt you,” he pauses. “Doesn’t mean that deep down I don’t want friends. Don’t want close relationships.”

Jared’s eyes are liquid with sympathy and Jensen has to look away.

“I want to be your friend,” Jared says softly, resting a hand on Jensen’s thigh. “I’ve always wanted that.”

Jensen sucks in a deep breath. “Me too,” he looks down at Jared’s hand and then back up into his eyes. The expression in them is a little more heated than Jensen would expect from someone who just wants friendship.

“Are you sure it’s just friendship you’re after?” he looks pointedly at Jared’s hand.

He expects Jared to jerk away again, to stammer out an apology, but he doesn’t. He bites his lip and looks away, before making eye contact again.

“Honestly?” he says. “No, I’m not sure that’s all I want. You’re a good looking guy, Jensen. I would definitely be up for more than friendship.”

Jensen’s eyebrows shoot up. “But you’re married to a woman!”

“Separated,” Jared says. “She left me for an alpaca farmer eighteen months ago, but we’re keeping it on the down low for the moment.”

Jensen puts his hand over Jared’s. “Shit. I’m so sorry, man.”

Jared shrugs. “Yeah. It’s been an adjustment, but mostly I’m not sorry. The relationship had run its course. At least we didn’t have kids.”

Jensen nods. “Doesn’t change the fact that you’re straight, though.”

Jared shakes his head. “Not so much. For me it’s about the person, not about whether they’ve got an innie or an outie or what pronouns they prefer. I guess I lean more towards femme presenting people…but Jensen, you’re like the best of both worlds…a very pretty man.”

Jensen snorts. “Seriously?”

Jared grins, unrepentant.

Jensen runs a hand across the back of his neck and chews at his lip. Truthfully, he’s not sure why he’s suddenly welcoming Jared inside his personal bubble. Maybe Jared’s right; maybe there is something magical about it. Jensen frowns. He feels as if there’s an important piece of knowledge that’s just out of reach; like a word on the tip of your tongue. Something he should know, but he just can’t quite connect the dots. What he does know is that he’s feeling more comfortable around Jared right now than he’s ever felt around anyone, ever. It’s almost as if there’s a rubber band between them, linking them together. One that’s been at full stretch and is now being released, bringing them closer together.

Or maybe it’s just that he’s leaning in toward Jared, getting steadily closer to his co-star’s widening, lust blown eyes. When their lips touch it’s electric. Jensen’s whole being tingles at the soft press of Jared’s lips against his, the way his hands come up to cup Jensen’s face, and then, the sudden change to urgency that has their tongues clashing as they duel for dominance, clinging, panting, devouring. Jensen is straddling Jared, grinding against him, his hands clutched in silky soft hair, and his mouth being thoroughly plundered when he hears something…or maybe feels something…and he pulls back like he’s been doused with ice.

“Jensen?” Jared looks bewildered, lost. And utterly dishevelled, Jensen can’t help noting smugly.

And then Jared’s eyes widen.

Jensen turns and takes in the two figures standing on the far side of the brook. He’s on his feet, facing them with clenched fists before he even realizes he’s decided to move.

They’re dressed like Renaissance Faire cosplayers in dark-colored robes. Jensen notices objectively that they’re classically good-looking in a pale, cold sort of way, but what really garners his attention is the giant batwings sticking up from behind them. 

“Holy shit!” Jared breathes, moving to stand beside him. “Are they _fairies_?”

“Unseelie Fae,” Jensen says, not taking his eyes off them.

One of them—the really douchey-looking one with the deep purple cloak—gives a low, mocking bow.

“You recognize us, Dear Cousin,” he says, voice dripping disdain.

Jensen frowns, because, no actually, the Unseelie Fae doesn’t say _that_. Not in those words anyway. The words he uses peal through the air like wind-chimes and Jensen can’t identify the language, but he _knows_ it, deep in his bones. 

“I ain’t your cousin, Douchebag,” he says in the voice Dean Winchester uses to quell demons.

The Fae just laughs. “Oh but you are,” his words chime like a bell.

“Uh, Jensen,” Jared says, placing a hand on his shoulder,” what’s going on? Can you understand them?”

Jensen nods. “No clue how.”

“You’re _Fae_, J’n Sen,” Purple Cloak says in English.

Jensen’s eyes widen incredulously. He looks at Jared who’s nodding thoughtfully.

“Dude!” Jensen growls.

“What? You _are_ inhumanly beautiful. It makes sense.”

There’s another one of those weird noises and the Fae are suddenly standing right beside them, causing Jared to flinch and barely stifle a yelp.

Purple Cloak is right in front of Jensen, peering at him with a malevolence that Jensen finds deeply unsettling.

“The Door was a trap set to lure you back, Cousin,” Purple Cloak says. “Will you give yourself willingly, or…”

The other Fae, the one with the olive-and-grey tunic, is suddenly right behind Jared and holding the tip of an ornate silver dagger to his throat.

The implied threat is never spoken out loud, but Jensen gets the message loud and clear. He nods once, briskly.

“I’ll do whatever you want, just don’t hurt him.”

For a brief moment, Purple Cloak looks uneasy. He glances at Olive-and-Grey Tunic who shakes his head and then nicks Jared’s throat with the blade.

“Ow!”

“A _Kris_ knife must never be sheathed unblooded,” Olive-and-Grey Tunic says. “Consider yourself lucky I took no more than a drop of yours.”

He moves to Jensen’s side and both of the Fae put a hand on each of his shoulders.

The world goes black.

Jensen and the fairies vanish into thin air. One minute they’re right in front of him, the next they’re gone…just…blinked out of existence.

The panic that hits Jared then is so debilitating that he ends up back on the grass with his head on his knees, trying to remember how to breathe. A lifetime later (or maybe it’s only a few minutes; time has become meaningless) he feels something soft and wet bump against his hand and then something heavy and fluffy clambers onto his lap.

Jared sits up.

“Hello, bunny,” he says.

The bunny nestles against him.

Jared regards it thoughtfully. “I don’t suppose you’re a magical bunny, are you?” he asks it hopefully. “You know, like a White Rabbit kind of guide?”

The bunny’s nose twitches and then it climbs off his lap, looks at him for a moment and then leaps over the brook.

Jared gets to his feet. The bunny pauses on the other side of the brook and stares at him, ears twitching.

“Am I supposed to follow you?”

The ears twitch and Jared doesn’t like to be anthropomorphic, but he swears the bunny’s lips quirk in irritation.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.”

He backs up and takes a running leap over the brook.

The bunny appears to consider him for a moment and then it turns and hops away.

Jared hurries after it.

“Oh man,” he mutters to himself. “I can’t believe I’m actually following the white rabbit. Never mind CS Lewis, this is some Lewis Carroll levels of messed up. If I see a giant caterpillar smoking a hookah I’m gonna seriously lose it.”

The bunny comes to a stop. It turns around and gives Jared the most baleful look he’s ever seen on a rabbit’s face, a look that seems to suggest that in the rabbit’s opinion he’s already lost it and should probably do himself a favor and get it back again.

“Point taken,” Jared tells the rabbit. “Less rambling hysteria, more hurrying quietly.”

The bunny’s whisker’s twitch and then it wheels around and keeps going.

Jared follows.

The sunlit meadow gives way to yet another forest and the bunny leads Jared to a path where the entwined upper branches of the trees have created another avenue.

The bunny stops and twitches its ears at Jared and then at the path.

“You want me to go down there?”

The bunny’s whiskers twitch.

“Okay,” Jared says. “Thank you.”

Walking through an avenue of trees is kind of creepy without Jensen by his side. The trees here are darker and they seem to press in on him from either side. The wind is whispering through their leaves, but whereas the whispering was joyous when he walked down the other avenue with Jensen, this whispering sounds foreboding. Turn back, Jared imagines the trees saying. You don’t belong.

“I should’ve listened to Jensen,” Jared mutters. “He said he had a bad feeling about this.”

There’s a sound, like air being rapidly displaced, and a fairy appears on the path right in front of Jared. He almost collides with it and barely bites back a scream.

“Jared?” says a familiar voice and Jared gasps, because he’s looking at a ghost.

“Misha?” he says, poking his dead former co-star in the chest with one long, extended finger.

He’s surprisingly solid for a ghost.

Misha frowns at him. “Where is Jensen?”

Jared pokes at his chest again.

Misha looks down and his frown deepens. “Why are you doing that?”

“You’re dead,” Jared whispers.

Misha’s expression clears. “Ah,” he says. “Um. No. Not so much dead as injured in the line of duty and returned home to recuperate. All the shenanigans with the parallel world and the angels was highly unexpected so the Queen decided to err on the side of caution and just watch Jensen via Crystalline Sphere for the remainder of his time in the Mortal Realm.”

Now it’s Jared’s turn to frown. Misha just said words. A whole bunch of them. And individually, Jared understood them all, but he can’t make any sense out of them.

“Uh. What?” he says.

Misha sighs. “I’ll explain later. Right now, I need to know where Jensen is.”

“Two Unseelie Fae took him.”

Misha’s eyes widen. “How do you know they were Unseelie?”

“Jensen said they were. And he could understand then, even though they weren’t speaking English.”

“His powers are unbinding,” Misha mutters. “C’mon,” he grasps Jared by the shoulder. “We have to go.”

The world darkens and spins and Jared grasps his head in his hands and moans.

“Oh God. I’m gonna be sick.”

Bells chime all around him and when Jared finally manages to straighten, having fought off the bout of nausea, he finds himself surrounded by fairies.

They’re all staring at him.

“Uh hi,” he says politely. “I’m Jared.”

One of them, a statuesque woman with long silver hair and a foreboding expression approaches him.

“Welcome to the Seelie Court, Jared. I am J’n Cara, Queen of the Court. J’n Sen is my son.”

If Jared’s mouth falls any further open it’s going to hit the floor.

“Jensen’s a _fairy prince_?” 

The Queen inclines her head. “I sent him into the Mortal Realm to keep him safe. He is my youngest child, not destined for the throne, but an Unseelie Crone prophesied that he would bring about the fall of the Unseelie King, and I was worried for my son’s safety if he stayed here.”

Jared frowns. “I don’t understand. Wouldn’t he be safer with you and all your,” he waves an arm at the armour-clad fairies gathered around, “security forces?”

The Queen shakes her head. “The Mortal Realm is a Sanctuary; a neutral zone, if you like. Fae may not harm each other in your Realm. So I knew that if I hid him well, in the Mortal Realm, he would be safe. Unfortunately,” the Queen glares at Misha, “M’i Sha’s rather noisy return after his injury led the Unseelie to discover that J’n Sen was hidden there. They couldn’t harm him in your Realm, so they set a trap to lure him back. We only learned of it, when we felt the two of you come through.”

And doesn’t that just make Jared feel like an asshole? Jensen said all along that he had a bad feeling about going through the wardrobe. Jared should’ve listened to him. But no, he’d gone barging ahead, too caught up in the adventure of it all to even consider the dangers.

The Queen is looking at him closely.

“However,” she says, “We have an advantage that the Unseelie are unaware of.”

Jared meets her eyes, questioningly.

The Queen smiles. “You,” she says.

She puts her hand over Jared’s heart and murmurs something low in the chime-like language of the Fae. A bright light, like a golden rope begins to shine from Jared’s chest and he gapes at it.

“What…?” he gasps.

“They’re soul-bonded!” Misha says, his tone completely awed.

The Queen’s smile widens. “And it’s a strong bond too, given the injunctions we placed upon J’n Sen when we sent him into the Mortal Realm,” she gives Jared an apologetic look. “We bound his powers when we placed him in your Realm. We always planned to bring him home once he hit maturity and came into his full powers, so we tried to block his ability to form…human…entanglements.”

It’s probably not a good idea to scowl at a Fairy Queen, but Jared can’t help himself.

“He thought there was something wrong with him,” he says tightly.

The Queen looks puzzled. “He is rich and famous in your Realm and he never lacked for beautiful company.”

“Having casual sex and sycophantic admirers is not the same as having friends and a loving partner. He was lonely.”

The Queen’s face darkens, but before she can respond, Misha intercedes.

“Well luckily for us all, J’n Sen’s soul managed to get entangled with Jared’s even with the injunctions in place. And now that J’n Sen is here, now that his powers are unbinding, the bond will be intensifying. You sensed it, my Queen, the Unseelie Court will sense it too.”

“Why is that a good thing?” Jared asks.

It’s the Queen who answers. “Because the soul-bonded belong to each other. Forced apart, they will die. And to harm an innocent is a serious crime in our Realm.”

Jared swallows. Is she seriously telling him that from now on, he’ll die without Jensen? Jared fights down his anxiety.

“So what am I supposed to do? Just march up to the Unseelie Palace and demand my soul-bonded partner back?”

The Queen’s smile is a vicious thing. “Essentially, yes.”

The Unseelie dungeon is cold and damp and Jensen isn’t sure whether his teeth are chattering because he’s freezing or because he’s terrified. He folds his wings more tightly around his arms and bare chest and stares forlornly at his tattered Henley, lying where it fell when his wings burst from his back and ripped it to shreds.

Yeah, that’s right.

Jensen has wings now.

He frowns. Apparently he’s always had them, but they’d been hidden away by magic, not able to manifest in the Mortal Realm.

Apparently returning to Tír na nÓg has brought them forth.

Apparently Jensen is a Seelie Fae.

Apparently he’s also a Seelie Prince.

Apparently there’s a prophecy that he’s going to kill the Unseelie King, so the Unseelie want him imprisoned here for life.

Jensen doesn’t even _know_ the Unseelie King. Although he has met two of his sons.

They’re the ones who kidnapped him and brought him to the dungeon.

The door into the dungeon clangs open and Purple Cloak (whose name is Torin) comes in carrying a bundle of material

“Here,” he says, feeding first a white shirt and then a blanket through the cell bars to Jensen.

“Thank you,” Jensen puts the shirt on. It looks like something you’d wear if you were cosplaying as Captain Jack Sparrow, all wide sleeves and ruffles. Also, it has a split at the back which allows his wings to poke through. Jensen hasn’t quite worked out how to coordinate his wings and getting them through the small hole is difficult.

It doesn’t help that Torin laughs at his efforts, before coming into the cell and helping him.

Jensen eyes him suspiciously. Torin himself hasn’t hurt Jensen yet, but he’s pretty sure he’s going to get a few bruises from the rough way Torin’s brother Cillian manhandled him into the dungeon.

“Why are you being nice to me?”

Torin settles his back against the cell bars and crosses his arms.

“You seem...harmless," he says. "So I went and actually read the prophecy for myself. Our father always told us that you were destined to _kill_ him. The prophecy doesn’t say ‘kill’ it says you’ll bring about his downfall. I’ve a feeling that with his order to take you captive, my father has just played right into the prophecy’s hands, so to speak.”

“How so?”

“By our own laws, we have no grounds to hold you. And then there is the additional matter of your being soul-bonded.”

Jensen gapes. “I’m what? What does that mean?”

Torin inclines his head. “You and your…human lover…”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Jensen holds a hand up. “Jared and I…” he trails off.

He actually has no idea how to finish that sentence. Fortunately, Torin does it for him.

“_Jared_ and you,” he says, “are soul-bonded,” he raises an eyebrow. “And when Cillian and I arrived, you were mere moments away from consummating the bond.”

“I…I…” Jensen is gaping like a fish.

“You were in the early stages of bond-fever,” Torin smirks. “And you were rutting against him like a cat in heat.”

Jensen feels his face turn scarlet. “That’s…”

Torin raises an eyebrow.

“…embarrassingly true,” Jensen finishes, covering his face with his hands.

“The point is,” Torin continues, “keeping you apart from your bond-mate for a lengthy period would be dangerous for you. And also a crime. Unfortunately, my father and brother don’t want to admit we have made a mistake. In refusing to release you immediately, my father has almost guaranteed he will lose the throne, because it is our sacred duty to uphold the law and maintain The Balance—and having failed at both my father is likely to be found unfit to rule. And thus you will have brought about his downfall through no more effort than sitting in a cell that we put you in. Ironic, no?”

Jensen has to agree that, yes, it really is.

He wraps the blanket Torin gave him around his shoulders and leans back against the cell wall, arms folded, a mirror image of Torin.

“So,” he says to the Unseelie Fae. “What happens now?”

“Now we wait for my father and brother to stop buzzing around like bees whose hive has fallen and come to their senses.”

Jensen nods. “And you’re down here in the cells because…?”

Torin sighs. “Because there’s an outside chance that instead of coming to their senses, they’ll double down on their stupidity and do something…even more stupid.”

A pit opens up in Jensen’s stomach. “Like what?”

“Like kill you, get rid of the body and try to pretend you were never here.”

The pit widens and churns. “So you’re what? My bodyguard now?”

Torin’s mouth is a grim line, his eyes dark, as he nods tersely.

Jensen takes a deep, shuddering breath. “I take back all the things I said about you earlier. Maybe you aren’t quite the douchebag I thought you were.”

Torin’s smile is wry and the closer Jensen looks at the Unseelie Fae, the more he sees the resemblance between them. It’s almost like looking at himself in negative. Which, he soon learns, is not an entirely inaccurate analogy.

“What do you know of The Balance?” Torin asks.

“Nothing,” Jensen says. “I think it’s pretty safe to say that I have no clue about anything Fae related. I didn’t even know y’all existed until an hour or so ago.”

“We all,” Torin says.

Jensen frowns. “What?”

“You are also Fae. You didn’t know that _we_ all existed. You are one of us.”

Yeah, that’s gonna take some getting used to.

“Right,” he says. “So…what’s The Balance?”

Torin purses his lips. “What is The Balance?” he muses. “It is Light and Dark; Birth and Death, Summer and Winter. The Balance is the maintenance of the natural order; the preservation of Mother Earth’s innate cycles and rhythms. The Fae play an important part in Earth’s cycles.”

“How?” Jensen asks, “What do yo…I mean _we_…do?”

Torin stares for a moment and then shakes his head. “It seems so strange that you don’t know these things,” he holds a hand up before Jensen can reply. “Yes, yes, I know. You were brought up in the Mortal Realm,” he inclines his head, apparently considering his words. “You may hear it said amongst the humans who know of our kind that the Unseelie are the ‘bad’ Fae and the Seelie the ‘good’ Fae. The reality is more complex. It is true that the Seelie tend to be more…beneficent…toward humans than we are and that we Unseelie generally enjoy the capacity that humans have for...bad…behaviour; encourage it even. _Your_ Court generally finds humans beneath them, beyond bestowing the odd favour here and there for services rendered,” he pauses again. “However, most of the…misconceptions stem from the fact that the Seelie are beings of Light; the Unseelie are beings of Dark. When a new mortal life is due to be born it is the Seelie who escort the chosen soul to the body; when an old mortal life is due to die, it is the Unseelie who escort the soul to the Summerland. The Seelie are responsible for Summer and Spring; the Unseelie for Autumn and Winter. It is the job of the Fae to maintain The Balance; to ensure the preservation of the cycles. There can be no life without death; no spring without winter.”

Jensen nods. “Yeah, I get it. You guys get a bum rap because people aren’t fans of the dark, winter and dying. But it’s all part of the natural order.”

Torin bows his head. “Just so. Accordingly, what happens in one Court must be mirrored in the other, or The Balance is upset.”

Jensen frowns. “Uh…I’m not sure I follow?”

Torin sighs. “Time moves differently in the Faerie Realm. The Unseelie live in Autumn and Winter, the Seelie in Summer and Spring. In the Faerie Realm they…the seasons..._intertwine_…I suppose is the best way of putting it, on a slightly different plane. I guess you could say that the Faerie Realm exists in the gaps between mortal time; but even that is not exactly right.”

“Okay,” Jensen says slowly. “Let’s just go with the Fae move in mysterious ways and leave it at that.”

Torin rolls his eyes. “And our existence being the complex intertwining it is, you are, essentially, my Seelie counterpart. You being hidden in the Mortal Realm threw The Balance off a little bit…but you being _killed_? Would probably kill me too. And if it didn’t The Balance would be _completely_ screwed…we’re talking major earthquakes, tornadoes, hurricanes, flooding, drought, tsunamis. You name it. There’s a lot of self-interest in me not wanting you dead; don’t go mistaking it for altruism.”

“Huh,” Jensen says. “This is some Unseelie street cred thing, isn’t it? Okay, I take it back. You’re the meanest, most malevolent Faerie I’ve ever met. Honest.”

The corners of Torin’s mouth lift, just a little, but before he can respond, the dungeon door opens once again and Cillian steps through it. He pulls up short when he sees Torin.

“Brother?” he says.

Torin merely raises an eyebrow and Cillian nods, his lips thinning.

“The Seelie Queen and The Human Lover are here.”

Jensen has to stifle a snigger at the very obvious title the Unseelie have bestowed on Jared.

“And?” Torin says.

The brothers stare at each other for a while and then Cillian’s shoulders slump.

“And we will release J’n Sen to them as required by law.”

As soon as Jensen sees Jared his whole being feels lighter, almost as if he’s floating in a happy bubble.

Jared is very obviously channelling his inner Sam Winchester. He’s pulled up to his full height; chest out, and heaving; fists clenched and he looks ‘_where’s my brother?’_ mean.

His eyes bug out when he sees Jensen and his mouth falls open.

Jensen swallows. “Hi,” he says.

Jared is still staring, nonplussed.

“I have wings now,” Jensen adds.

Jared meets his eyes. “I see that,” he pauses; takes a deep, steadying breath. “Sera is not going to like this. It’ll be even worse than when you got that tattoo, hours of bitching about you making life hard for Make Up.”

And just like that, Jensen’s happy bubble bursts. Because life as he knew it? Is over. _He has freakin’ wings for fuck’s sake!_ It’s not like he can go back to playing a monster hunter on TV. He _is_ a monster. Well. Maybe not a monster, but he’s definitely a supernatural being. And…and…he squeezes his eyes shut.

“J’n Sen?” Torin’s hand rests tentatively against his shoulder. “_Breathe_, Cousin.”

There’s a growling noise and then Torin is saying, _okay, okay_ and his hand moves from Jensen’s shoulder. A moment later Jensen feels Jared’s arms wrap tightly around him.

“It’s okay, Jensen,” he says. “We’ll make it work.”

Jensen cracks open an eye and tilts his head. Jared is looking at him with so much love and concern that Jensen feels his happy bubble snap back into place. He opens both eyes wide and Jared grins down at him.

“Your eyes are _so_ green right now,” he says. 

The Seelie Queen clears her throat. “Uh, yes. Well. We might want to…”

But whatever else she may have had to say is lost to Jensen because he’s suddenly kissing Jared very hard and _oh gods_ trying to climb him like a tree.

He does hear a few snatches of conversation. Words like: _bond-fever_, and _convene a Council of Courts later, _but then the Queen’s hand is on his shoulder and the world goes momentarily dark.

When Jensen is aware again they’re in a bedroom. At least, Jensen assumes that the large, round, nest-like thing with all the blankets and pillows is a bed.

“Have fun,” the Queen says with a wicked smirk. She pushes a small pot into Jared’s hand and then she vanishes.

“Ugh,” Jared says. “I hate shimmering! It makes me nauseous every time.”

Jensen blinks. “Shimmering?”

“Yeah. That’s what they call that,” he waves an arm, “teleportation thing they do. I’m sure Misha will explain it to you at great length. Probably with diagrams.”

Jensen frowns. “Misha?”

Jared’s eyes widen. “Yeah. Misha. Our Misha. He’s not dead, he’s a Faerie.”

“Oh.”

Shimmering had given Jensen a brief respite from the overwhelming lust he’d been feeling, but the wanton heat is starting to return now.

“Jensen? Your eyes are turning bright green again.”

Jensen rubs the back of his neck. “I think it’s because of the bond-fever,” he bites his lip and then looks up at Jared from beneath his lashes. “I kind of really, _really_ need you to fuck me right now.”

Jared makes a noise like he’s in pain and Jensen takes a deep breath, preparing to tell Jared that it’s okay, he understands if gay sex isn’t Jared’s thing, he’ll find a way to cope, after all this stupid faerie soul-bond stuff isn’t Jared’s fault.

And then he realizes that Jared is tearing his clothes off, almost tripping over his jeans in his haste to get rid of them and _oh, wow_, Jared has such a nice cock. So big. It has both length and girth. And it’s so smooth and pretty. So hard and pink. Jensen’s wings flutter in agitation. Why isn’t it inside him already?

“Jensen!” Jared barks. “Pants!”

Jensen blinks. Oh. Right. That would be why.

He shucks said pants with superhuman speed and practically throws himself onto the bed, face down, ass up, wings quivering.

He feels Jared’s hand on his hip and can’t help the needy whine that slips from his mouth. He has a moment to reflect that he’s going to be embarrassed about his desperate neediness later, but then Jared is rubbing a lubed finger against his hole. Jensen groans.

“That pot the Queen gave me has greasy stuff in it,” Jared says. “I hope it’s lube and not some type of magic potion.”

Jensen doesn’t care what it is so long as it enables Jared to get inside him _right the fuck_ now and he tells Jared as much.

Jared responds by shoving one long, thick finger in deep. Jensen mewls and his cock dribbles.

“More!” he demands.

Jared is all too happy to comply. Jensen gets two fingers and the stretch is delicious, but not enough, Jensen needs more and he’s vocal about it too, shoving his ass back, his wings fluttering as he insists that he really, really needs Jared’s cock in him immediately.

“Don’t wanna hurt you,” Jared says, voice strained and husky.

And Jensen is _done_. He reaches back, hooks an arm around Jared’s waist and flips him onto his back before straddling him and sinking down onto his cock in one fast, fluid move.

“Fuck, Jensen!” Jared gasps.

“Good idea,” Jensen growls, lifting himself up and then sinking back down with a hip swivel that makes Jared’s cock grind against his prostate in exactly the right way. “Fuck Jensen. _Please_.”

Jared gets the message and grips Jensen by the hips, thrusting up into him in counterpoint to Jensen sinking down.

Jensen has one hand on Jared’s chest and the other he wraps around his cock. He bites at his lip as he strokes himself just the way he likes it and Jared’s eyes turn so dark it’s almost like he’s got those demon contact lenses in.

“Mine!” Jared says and pushes Jensen’s hand away, gripping his cock with his big sweaty hand and it only takes two pumps for Jensen to lose it, spurting all over Jared’s hand and down onto his stomach.

He feels boneless and blissed out and it’s no effort at all for Jared to flip him onto his stomach and then—_gods_—he gives it to Jensen deep and fast, fucking him so hard that Jensen slides up and down on the silky sheets, scrambling for purchase and feeling like a rag doll.

Jensen feels himself getting hard again and _that’s_ a surprise; he’s almost forty and even when he was _twenty_ he didn’t have a recovery period this good. Then again, the few partners that he’s gone this far with all treated him like a fragile piece of glass and were so _honored_ that they got to touch him that, quite frankly, the sex was pretty damn unsatisfying. Jared though, seems to have an uncanny knack for knowing exactly how Jensen likes it and while Jensen, if anyone had asked, would have said that his preference was for slow, tender lovemaking, he’s finding that the domineering way that Jared is taking him apart is pushing buttons he didn’t even know he had.

Jensen climaxes again when Jared comes with a shout, deep inside him. For one brief moment, the world around him seems to sparkle with bright white light and then there’s darkness.

When he comes to (or wakes up—truthfully Jensen’s not sure whether he passed out or simply fell asleep) Jared has made him the little spoon. And judging by how not-sticky he feels, Jared cleaned him up at some point too.

Jensen’s wings flutter and Jared giggles.

“That tickles!”

“Sorry. I’m not used to having…wings yet.”

It feels surreal even to say it.

Jared strokes one of his wings softly and Jensen shudders at how nice it feels.

“They fold away quite…_compactly_ when you go to sleep,” Jared offers. “But now that you’re awake they seem to be perking up a bit.”

Jensen snorts and makes a concerted effort to fold them back up, before carefully rolling onto his back. It’s not uncomfortable, which is good, because Jensen sleeps on his back quite a lot.

“How long was I…asleep?” he asks.

Jared chuckles. “About an hour. I was worried at first, but the Queen _did_ warn me earlier that bond-consummating sex usually makes Fae pass out.”

Jensen scowls. “Would’ve been nice if somebody gave _me_ a heads up on what to expect. I don’t know anything about being Fae.”

“Yeah,” Jared sighs. “The Queen…your Mom…wants to talk to you tomorrow.”

Jensen’s scowl deepens. “She’s not my mom. Susan Ackles is my mom.”

“Okay,” Jared says. He pauses. “How are you feeling?”

“Confused. Sore. Happy. Overwhelmed. I’m not sure, Jared. I’m feeling a lot. More than I’m used to feeling.”

There’s a long silence and then Jared says, “You don’t…regret…us…do you?”

Jensen rolls to face him. “No,” he says, reaching out and putting a hand to Jared’s cheek. “You and me…we’re the one thing in all of this that makes perfect sense.”

Jensen doesn’t think he’ll ever really understand what it means to be Fae. He was raised human. The Fae culture just isn’t his culture; he’s missed too much to ever fully grasp it.

But. After a week spent with his Fae family, Jensen can concede that he is starting to feel more settled. More comfortable in his skin. And part of that is thanks to Jared. Having a partner who loves and understands him is truly awesome, but honestly, Jensen would be slightly pissed if he thought he needed another person to complete him. It’s wonderful to have someone to share his life with, but he is his own, whole, person. So partly his growing self-assurance is due to Jared and partly it’s due to the fact that learning about his Fae heritage is helping him to fill in some gaps; to understand that he’s not freaky or broken, merely Fae. He’s learned that he’s young for a Fae—he won’t even come into his full powers until he hits fifty. And he’ll outlive his parents by centuries. He hasn’t told Jared yet. The soul-bonded share a lifespan—Jared is aware of that. He just doesn’t realize that if Jensen lives to five hundred, which is not uncommon for the Fae, then so will he. Jensen has to admit, that being Fae comes with quite a lot of benefits.

Still, he’s not staying in Tír na nÓg. Not while he’s still got a human life to lead. J’n Cara understands and she’s given him her blessing to leave. His siblings don’t remember him; don’t really know him, but he gets along with them alright and he’s looking forward to getting to know them better. J’n Cara is gifting him a Door and Jensen has promised to visit regularly, to let them visit him if they promise to behave.

Right now, though, they’re waiting to hear the outcome of the Council of Courts Hearing into the Actions of the Unseelie King. At a mere thirty-eight years of age, Jensen is too young to sit on the Council; and so is his Unseelie counterpart, Torin.

Jensen’s siblings think it’s weird and slightly scandalous that he’s become friends with his Unseelie cousin. Jensen thinks Court Protocol is stupid.

In the meantime, Torin is sitting with him and Jared in the Council’s antechamber, waiting for news. Jensen has just finished telling him about the Door that J’n Cara has promised him and Torin is trying hard not to look desperately excited about it.

“Can I come and visit sometime?” he asks.

“Depends,” Jensen says. “Will it upset The Balance? Will it bring the Council down on our heads?”

Torin shakes his head. “It will be permitted. Encouraged even.”

Jared frowns at that. “Why?”

Torin grins. “J’n Sen found his bond-mate in the Mortal Realm. The chances are better than good that I will too.”

To nobody’s surprise the Council of Courts finds Torin’s father unfit to rule and appoints one of Torin’s older sisters as Unseelie Monarch in his place.

“So,” J’n Cara says when the dust has settled, “are you ready to return to the Mortal Realm, J’n Sen?”

And yes, he really, really is.

“Are you sure we won’t have been missed?” Jared asks anxiously.

They’ve both heard stories of mortals who visited the Faerie Realm and then returned home to find that several hundred years had passed in their absence and everyone they’d ever known was dead. J’n Cara has reassured them that she’s extremely good at creating Doors in time and space and that she’ll get them home at around about the same time they left. The Door though, will be into the wardrobe in Jensen’s bedroom, not into some random wardrobe on set.

The Queen reassures Jared, yet again, and then it’s time for them to say their good-byes and leave.

A Door materializes in front of them on the Queen’s word and when Jensen opens it he can see his bedroom.

“We’ll be seeing you soon,” the Queen says with a soft smile.

“I look forward to it,” Jensen says.

They step through the Door and Jensen closes it carefully behind him.

Jared is looking around Jensen’s bedroom with interest.

“Nice,” he says. “Very GQ.”

“Shut up,” Jensen says, rolling his eyes.

Jared gives him a thorough once over. “Well, I can’t see your wings, so I guess that magic to make them invisible in this dimension worked fine.”

Jensen rolls his shoulders. “Yeah. I can’t even feel them. It’s weird. I’d just gotten used to them.”

Jared’s eyes light on the wardrobe and he grins. “Dude,” he says, “you do realize that we just--”

“Don’t say it!” Jensen says sharply.

“But Jensen, we just--”

“Nah uh,” Jensen says. “You finish that sentence, you’re sleeping on the sofa for a month!”

Jared blinks. “Your sofa? You mean…you want me to move in?”

Jensen wraps his arms around Jared’s waist and pulls him in close. “You’re my bond-mate. That whole Sam’n’Dean neurotically co-dependent thing? We’re gonna take that to a whole new level.”

“I like the sound of that,” Jared says.

Supernatural Showrunner Sera Gamble has just settled behind her desk and taken a sip of her Chai latte when Phil’s assistant Delores comes bursting into her office.

“We’ve got a big problem,” she says.

Sera frowns. “It’s not the Mishamigos again is it? They do realize Misha _actually_ died, right? No amount of petitioning is going to bring him back for Season 13.”

“No, no,” Dolores shakes her head. “It’s Jared and Jensen.”

Sera’s eyes widen. “It’s not like last time, is it? Should we beef up security? Are they smuggling human body parts again? Or is it drugs?”

Dolores purses her lips. “They _could_ be on Ecstasy,” she allows. “That would maybe explain why they’re all over each other.”

Sera’s mouth falls open and she scrambles to her feet. “They’re what? Where? This I’ve gotta see,” she clears her throat. “For, uh, professional reasons.”

Dolores smirks. “Of course.”

Sure enough, Sam has Dean backed up against the Impala’s driver’s side door and is kissing the living daylights out of him. Sera can’t quite contain her little whimper. Okay, so it’s Jared and Jensen, not Sam and Dean, but they’re in costume, on-set, and this is the Epic Love Story of Sam and Dean being played out in real, live Technicolor.

Jared pulls back from Jensen and the boys both beam at her.

“Hi Sera,” Jared says warmly.

“Sorry about that,” Jensen says, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink. “We might’ve got a bit carried away. But we can be professional, honest.”

Sera swallows. “So you two…?”

Jared wraps an arm around Jensen’s shoulders and grins.

“Yeah,” he says. “You could say we finally came out of the closet.”

Jensen groans and drops his head down onto Jared’s chest. “I hate you so much right now.”

Jared smiles, big and sappy. “Nah,” he says. “You love me.”

“Yeah,” Jensen says. “I really do.”

And then they’re kissing again.

Sera clasps her hands in front of her. They’re just too adorable. She can practically feel the hearts in her eyes.

Beside her, Delores clears her throat. “If we don’t get things back on track, Phil is gonna lose it.”

Sera sighs. “Well,” she says, “at least they’re talking.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my wonderful artist Dizzojay for the inspiring prompt, to my beta reader endlessevelina for feedback and correction of typos, and last, but not least, to the fabulous mods who run this awesome challenge! 
> 
> Dizzo's art masterpost can be found HERE: https://dizzojay.livejournal.com/696169.html
> 
> So many sites these days have gone silly about potentially showing NSFW images and I know the embedded art doesn't always show for everyone (even if its entirely G-rated). My apologies if that happens to you. Please do go and look at the art on the masterpost and heap praise upon Dizzo! 
> 
> As always, if you've enjoyed the story, I love to hear from you! :)


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